“Sister these woods have seen ten summer’s fadeSince thy dear dust in yonder church was laid;A few more winters, and this heart, the shrineOf thy fair memory shall he cold as thine.Yet may some stranger lingering in these ways,Bestow a tear on grief of other days:For if he too, have wept o’er grace and youthGoodness and wisdom, faith and love and truth,Untinged with worldly guile or selfish stain,And ne’er hath looked upon thy like again,Then, imaged in his sorrow, he may seeAll that I loved, and lost, and mourn in thee.”